


Like the Songs

by StarlightAsteria



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Complex relationships, F/M, Jaime-centric, Sansa-centric, Tragic Romance, major angst, this doesn't have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-04 18:54:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightAsteria/pseuds/StarlightAsteria
Summary: The Lady of Winterfell and the Lion of Lannister have a surprising amount of things in common.Their love of the songs of old is merely one.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite different to my usual style; it's a lot more experimental, - I attempted to write it in a style approximating the epic/high medieval, so I'd love to hear what you all think.
> 
> trigger warnings: major angst, violence & death.

* * *

 

 

 

LIKE THE SONGS

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Lady of Winterfell and the Lion of Lannister have a surprising amount in common. 

 

_I wanted to be ser arthur dayne_

 

_(like the songs of bravery)_

 

_I wanted to be a lady_

 

_(like the songs of hope)_

 

 

At the end of all things, after the War for the Dawn, after the Fall of the Dead and the End of Winter, they are, somehow. She with her tender, generous heart, her stark white skin and eyes like the sunset sea and hair of weirwood red; the lady of the North, beloved of her people. He with his golden hair and emerald, flashing cat-eyes and a golden hand, his horizon redemption, his only thought to keep his promise, by any means necessary. 

 

 

_their end is tragic_

 

_(like the songs of love)_

 

_but there is also a beginning_

 

_(like the songs of old)_

 

 

She fights to keep her people alive; she gives them hope and warmth and food. He fights to keep her alive; he gives her a shield and his strength and his devotion. But the Dragon Queen is discontent; and begins to see shades and suspicions and stealth, even where there is none. 

 

Though the Lady does not bear the title of Queen, she is more a Queen than any other, and the Dragon in her jealous greed and fear crafts an ultimatum.

 

_bend the knee or die_

 

_join me, and you shall be granted mercy_

 

But the Lady has not endured so much to bow to one who would offer her the same choice Cersei in the South once gave. 

 

_I cannot bow to you_

 

_I will not_

 

_never again_

 

_not to targaryen tyranny_

 

So the Lady is taken to Winterfell’s great courtyard in front of lords and bannermen and farmers alike, and asked once more, to recant, and bend the knee. 

 

She would not.

 

“My Lords and Ladies of the North! My people!” says she. “I must do as my own conscience dictates. I was not tortured by Joffrey and Cersei and Ramsey and Baelish to bow again in front of yet another tyrant, a tyrant who demands respect and fealty instead of earning it, a tyrant with neither interest or knowledge in this land, and for that I am sentenced to die. Then let me die; but I am a Stark of Winterfell in the North and you have partaken of my bread and salt.”

 

There are angry stirrings at this; though they do not believe the Dragon Queen will do this; the Lady knows she will. She can see the bloodlust in those alien violet eyes. 

 

“You have broken faith!”

 

“No,” the Lady rejoins, an unsettling smile upon her lips. “House Targaryen broke faith when Rhaegar took Lyanna; House Targaryen broke faith when instead of listening to Lord Stark’s requests the Mad King burnt him alive and strangled Brandon Stark. House Stark owes House Targaryen nothing. But you may choose to believe as you like.”

 

“If you burn the Lady of Winterfell you shall have to burn me too!” a voice calls from behind, and the Lion of Lannister strides out to stand beside her, their fingers tangling. “I am her sworn shield; I should be shamed to live in a world in which she does not,” he declares fiercely. 

 

“So be it,” the Dragon sighs, a superior expression twisting her countenance in a superficial demonstration of melancholy. The Dragon’s Consort protests, the Lady’s brother and sister protests, the Lion’s brother protests, the Lords and the bannermen protest, but the decision has been made.

 

 

_dracarys_

 

 

And the Lion swiftly draws the Lady into an embrace so she does not have to look death in the face; his golden hand tangling in her russet hair. They are anchored in each others’ eyes and something passes between them, private and fragile _(in another life - I would have - I know)_. He covers her mouth with his; desperately, tenderly, and she feels his shudder as her own, and they cling to one another -

 

 

 

_and then they are gone_

 

_like the snow melting in spring_

 

_like the memory of an echo_

 

_like the songs_

 

 

 

 

 

But the North Remembers. But the West Remembers.

 

 

 

 

 

_and uneasy lies the head that wears the crown_

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she thought she would see Visenya reborn / like the songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! By popular demand, here is part II. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

 

 

LIKE THE SONGS II

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_she thought she would see Visenya reborn_

  _like Nymeria, like the warrior queens,_

 

_like the songs of bravery_

 

There is nothing songlike about watching her elder sister go up in flames.

 

There is only horror, only pain, only wishes made in vain _(be a coward, don’t burn, don’t die, don’t be by the dragon devoured)._ Though the doomed romance between the Lady and the Lion takes them all aback; and Arya knows, one hundred years from now, two hundred, three hundred, a thousand years from now, children will clamour to hear the tale of Arya’s sister and the man she loved. Arya knows this, because she intends to make it happen. To die in love, entwined so closely gold and white and crimson blur - a grim beauty, and macabre, with more terror than hope, more agony than joy.  

 

_like the songs of love_

 

She watches as the Dragon Queen stands, unmoved, staring at a pile of ashes; a dark, jagged cut against the pristine snow ( _the wound, this wound, this gaping void, this will never heal)_ , and Arya howls like the Direwolf she is, and she dashes, fast as a shadow, needle-thin knives in her palms, towards the white-haired woman in the clearing, but Ghost knocks her to the ground. 

 

_traitor traitor traitor_

_like the songs of old_

 

She screams, the Lords scream, the Imp screams, but the Dragon and her Consort are silent. 

 

_I am the fury and the fear_

 

 

_I am the avenger near_

 

 

_I your last words will hear_

 

 

 

_I the Shadow_

_I the Wolf_

_I the Knife_

_I the Dark_

 

_I the very last of all the Starks_

 

_so conquer, rule and burn -_

_I shall wait my turn_

_for you dragons never seem to learn_

_madness your death does earn_

 

The Consort attempts to reason with the Dragon, speaking intimately in her ear, face drawn in melancholy and shock, and after a time they depart the courtyard _(they will get no welcome here)._

 

_even the traitor regrets_

_but the laments come too late_

_he will return and repent_

_and lay his sword at the lady’s feet -_

 

_perhaps -_

 

_traitor, they call_

_(like the songs of war)_

 

And the Direwolf cannot take her eyes from the ashes. A Lady defended by a Lion. A Lion loved by a Lady. Beloved of her people. Beloved of his. Sansa and Jaime. Lannister and Stark. 

 

_they should have been enemies_

  _(they were, in the beginning)_

 

_they were prisoners_

  _(like the songs of chivalry)_

 

_the princess in the tower_

  _the lion in the cage_

 

_their trials overcome_

 

_(like the songs)_

 

_like the songs of love_

_like the songs of old_

 

 

 

Arya will see to it.

 

(later she dreams of a lion frolicking in the snow _young and powerful and glorious_ with a grey-white wolf _dainty and pretty and happy_ / she dreams of them at the sunset howling and roaring / she dreams of them basking in the sun _furry tails entwined_ ) 

 

(she dreams of her sister’s voice but she wakes and it isn’t even a memory but a trick / she dreams of his sword flashing in the sun but the courtyard is moonless and empty / she dreams of ghosts but there is only ash upon the cold dark stone)

 

She hopes the Dragon dreams. She hopes the Dragon sees Sansa feeding the smallfolk and Jaime teaching the boys to fight. She hopes the Dragon sees them laughing and happy and smiling in her dreams (she hopes the Dragon sees them in love when her own bed is cold). 

 

Direwolves don’t smile.

 

Arya does. 

 

The Shadow in the Dark _(black on white)._ The Cloak and the Dagger. The Stealer of Faces. I the wrath. I the chain. I the plighted troth - I the agony and the pain. I the vow, I not thou, I the sword, I the hope, I the hearth, I the bleeding dying heart, I the shadow, running, running, howling in the dark. 

 

I the wrath, I the ruin, I the strangler’s bane. I the snow, I the storm, I the death beneath the ice. 

 

Valar morghulis - I have many smiles still to gain.  

 

 

 

_and the queen of the ashes sits upon her iron throne_

_a barren crown for a barren queen_

 

_hollow indeed is greed_

 

_and in the far distance_

 

_the clarion call_

 

 

_the echo of the lion’s roar_

_the memory of the lady’s song -_

 

 

 

 

 

 

_see, there, the greyhound in the snow_

_fast as a shadow!_  

 

 

 

 

_like those songs of prophecy foretold_

 

 

\- and in Winterfell there grows a tree

bark of white and leaves of red and gold

 

they say it howls at night, a lion in winter

for from the dragon they are free

 

and in the West there is a rock

ancient and old

where sits a lady and

a lion resting his head in her lap

you see

 

_no, that is merely fantasy_

_a troubadour’s embellishment -_

 

 

 

 

 

_sung to comfort children_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (this is his penance)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, Jon POV for you all. it's quite angsty, but I hope you all enjoy it. I plan to do a Daenerys POV next, as the final part of this series of drabbles. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented, and please do give me your thoughts on this instalment!

* * *

 

 

**III.**

 

His sister or his lover. His sister or his lover. The words beat a frantic tattoo in his mind, and he cannot choose. He pleads with his lover not to do this, but he cannot choose between them.

 

And then it is too late.

 

He cannot believe it; cannot understand what his eyes are telling him because it is too horrible to be true. His sister is dead at the hands of his lover.

 

_if if if_

 

The Lady is dead. The Lion is dead. The Dragon has won, and the Shadow rages. 

 

Ghost wrestles the Shadow back; but it isn’t what everyone thinks; he simply doesn’t want to lose another member of his family, though he knows Arya will not thank him for it. 

 

In all his nightmares he could never have anticipated this. He looks at his lover and his stomach twists with lust and hatred, and bile rises in his throat. What happened to him when the Red Witch raised him? Is some obscure, ancient magic the reason why he fell in love with a She-Dragon?

 

His sister or his lover. Direwolf or Dragon. Stark or Targaryen. The Hero’s Choice. 

Except he isn’t a hero and this isn’t a song. 

 

He pulls his lover away, and when they are alone, he stares sadly at her face _(pretty and terrible)_ and he does not know what to feel. 

 

_she was my sister, my sister -_

 

_she was a threat to my rule_

 

and his decision is made - 

 

_I love you, but she was my sister. And you forced me to choose between you - how could you?_

 

_I can’t tell you_

 

_then whatever madness brought us together -_

_it is done_

_I will have no part in it_

_not anymore_

 

(is this what happens when a dragon and a direwolf mate? perhaps he is as selfish as Rhaegar was, as selfish as Lyanna was, to pursue his lust and leave destruction in his wake) 

 

_you have nowhere else to go_

 

_I know that_

_it does not change my decision_

 

_go then! go! leave!_

_go and die in what way seems best to you_

 

He has loved her fierceness; he loves it less when she turns it against him. 

 

a dragon is all fire

a dragon cannot be controlled

a dragon cannot be tamed

(he knows that now)

 

_I have loved you - and you would let me go_

_just like that_

 

_what do you want me to say?_

 

_that you regret it_

_that you should not have done it_

_she was my sister_

_and he loved her_

_and she loved him_

 

_and she made her choice_

_they both did_

 

this is not an impasse

this is a chasm

(and cannot be o’erleapt)

 

_one day, you will come to regret it_

 

_is that a threat?_

 

_no_

_it is simple fact_

_the north remembers_

_and a lannister always pays his debts_

(this wolf still has fangs enough)

 

thus he leaves; leaves Winterfell, and turns north

 

do not wait for me

(this is not a song)

and I am not a hero

 

he walks and walks and walks until he can walk no more, and sleeps in the shade of a weirwood tree (he dreams) -

 

his sister dancing - his sister laughing - his sister happy - his sister _ashes_

 

_(his sister dead)_

and his own heart torn apart

the dragon holds him down

the lion claws it from his chest

and the lady eats it

 

he wakes screaming

_this is his penance_

 

 

he lives out his days in the wild

in the wind

in the snow and the ice

 

 

and there from memory he fades

 

 

_no other could possibly hate him as much as he does himself_

(his sister died for his lust / his mother’s brother died for hers) 

 

he regrets

but still he falls with thoughts

of silver hair and violet eyes

and the Dragon’s name upon his lips

 

_like the songs of woe_

 

 

 

_but this is not a song_

_and here there is nothing_

 

 

 

 

 

 

_no redemption to be found_

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragon crossed the River long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to the final part of this little experimental series - Daenerys POV for you all. I have to say that I am so bowled over and humbled by the reception this has got; so thank you, and I hope you enjoy this last segment.

* * *

 

 

 

**IV.**

 

 

* * *

 

 

_if I look back I am lost_

 

When did she cross the river? When she moved not a muscle as Khal Drogo poured burning gold over her brother’s head? When she suffocated her own husband? When her children hatched, and she decided that if the world would not come to her, she would simply have to _take_ it?

 

_the last Targaryen, the last of her line_

_the Conqueror_

 

(it has such a ring to it, does it not?)

 

when did she begin to believe her own propaganda?

 

When did she begin to believe, as her brother Viserys did, that Westeros was hers - never mind Aerys the Mad, never mind Rhaegar the Rapist, never mind the Lords Paramount clamouring for reparations _(reparations denied) -_ simply because she was a Targaryen?

 

she the spare (never the heir)

she born of incest and rape

what right, has she, truly?

 

(but that doesn’t matter, it never has)

 

She is a Dragon

and with fire and blood

they _take_

 

She is a Dragon

and her destiny is nothing less

than the remaking of the world

in her own image

 

 

_or so she believes_

 

so she _must_ believe

(if I look back I am lost)

 

But Sansa Stark… Sansa Stark unsettles her. Oh, she might scorn the Lady for thinking of - _logistics_ is such an ugly word, is it not, so cold, so reductive - and hasn’t she heard that bread doesn’t win you a throne; soldiers do?

 

_soldiers might win you the throne_

_but bread helps you keep it_

 

(so she will discover)

 

 

_to her own peril_

 

(the north remembers / the west never forgets / to pay their debts / the reach grows strong / and dorne always rights a wrong)

 

_sansa . lyanna . brandon . rickard . jaime . joanna . olenna . randyll . dickon . elia . rhaenys . aegon . ellaria ._

 

burned / taken / strangled / burned / burned / assaulted / abandoned / burned / burned / betrayed / abandoned / denied / left for dead

 

and this all at targaryen claws

 

a crown of fire & a throne of blood

 

A Lady should be incapable of rattling a Dragon! there is no song of the sort - but this is not a song; and the Dragon is greedy and threatened and envious.

 

_kneel or die_

_(says the Dragon)_

_I will make them love me_

_(says the Lady)_

 

The Dragon is vain; _all_ men have fallen at her feet, either in lust or submission, but all have fallen in the face of her magnificence and that is the most important thing.

 

The Great Khal. Her brother. Her old companion, the Bear. The Sellsword, the Imp, the slave-masters of Meereen, the slaves themselves. The Iron Born and even the famed King in the North. 

 

Jaime Lannister does not.

 

and it _infuriates_ her

 

The Lion of Lannister has no fear of dragons. He killed her father; he attempted the same with her. The Lion of Lannister has no fear of dragons. The Lion of Lannister for dragons only has contempt and disdain and disgust. The Lion of Lannister _slays_ dragons.

 

Even as he dies the Lion ignores the Dragon. 

 

The Lion is busy passionately declaring himself to the Lady. 

 

_like the songs of love and woe of old_

 

The Lion is the Lady’s Protector; the Lion is the Lady’s Knight. But the Lion and Lady are equal

 

and it _confounds_ her

 

how can they be? even a Khalessi was only a Khal’s Wife. Men warm her bed; her days of warming the beds of men are over. Even with the White Wolf; her superiority is understood - _he bent the knee to her; he came to her bed_

 

The Lion and the Lady have a friendship, an intimacy, a reciprocal devotion to one another that she does not understand.

 

_she fears she never will_

 

 

_and that -_  

unnerves the Dragon

though she will not admit it

 

She does not understand the White Wolf either; how can he choose the Lady over passion and pleasure and life?

 

(she would never have chosen Viserys)

 

I can’t tell you

_if I look back I am lost_

 

 

what need has a Dragon of a Wolf when she has her Throne?

 

if she wants lovers she has them -

 

 

But the Red Keep is full of ghosts - _herethereeverywhere_

 

 

she hears the Lady’s song in the dark of night

she sees the Lion’s sword flashing in the sun

two lords lean against the columns of the hall, dark haired and grey eyed

blue winter roses grow in the gardens

she turns a corner and sees a lioness upon the prowl

when it rains her skin is pricked by thorns

two lords overlook the bay, side by side, arms clasped

the sun weeps - how can it weep?

two children laugh and play

‘Father! Father! Father!’

(they never find him / he isn’t there)

and in the castle bowels a viper creeps 

 

 

(sometimes she thinks the walls are licked by fire)

 

she hears the Shadow is delivered of children - a girl first, with hair, weirwood red; eyes stark grey - and then four sons, northern black of hair, and eyes of sunset-blue - named _in memoriam_

 

And the Dragon rages.

 

Her vision is so full of ghosts she does not see the greyhound in the shadows.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_on and on the wheel turns_

_unbroken_

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do tell me what you thought!


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is this how it ends?

 

* * *

 

 

**V.**

 

 

* * *

 

 

_is this how it ends?_

thinks the Imp

 

 

with ash upon the cold snow ground

with the breaking of the realms

with the Lion’s death?

 

the Lion _his brother_

 

_his protector_ _his friend_ _his_ champion is this how it ends?

 

 

 

all the years of his life the Imp has wished his brother might find love true and happiness, and for it to be taken thus?

 

he doesn’t think the Dragon will say it

(until she does)

 

somehow he has clung to the belief - 

the Lion cannot be slain

 

somehow

 

it chokes him  that night he dreams

 

the Lady yet a girl

innocent

and broken

beautiful

unhappy

_(locked in her tower)_

 

 

too young

far too young yet in his veins lust burns and roils

 

sickening

 

 

her face sharpens

 the Lady is grown

and still she smiles not

 

 

 

only the Lion makes her laugh

_how_

 

 

he doesn’t understand for

Power, power they do not desire

and

 

 

he does not _understand_

he cannot

it is beyond him

 

for they love

somehow

 

and it is beyond him

 

to forge from hate

love

to build from rubble

a realm

and in the ash

to plant trees

 

 

the Lady and the Lion  forge and build and plant

_though they are gone_

their love endures  their realm yet stands  their trees yet grow

_though they are gone_

 

_how_

 

 

he cannot understand

for why have love when one is handed the reins of Power

(that fickle mount)

 

 

for why build when beckons seductive destruction and the urge to wipe everything away? 

why plant when it is so much easier to take?

(the Imp has spent too long courting Dragons)

 

 

_is this how it ends_

 

upon the cliffs the Lion loved

staring into the sunset

his shadow is stunted 

and another behind

 

 

_you could have prevented it_

 

(that chokes him too)

 

_my sister is gone_

_and you could have prevented it_

_and if that is not good enough_

_your brother is gone_

and you could have prevented it

 

_The Dragon is a Dragon_

 

_then why bring her here_

_why sail with her_

_if you knew what she was_

 

(ambition . casterly rock . desire . power)

 

you have your fortress now, Imp

but there is no one left to hear

and the stones themselves they weep

now there is no one left to hear

 

Silent stones or the Lion’s Life?

 

was it worth the fight?

was it worth the blood?

was it worth the screams?

 

The Imp will end

The Dwarf will die

and fade back into the dust from whence you came

 

you will be _nothing_

then, Shadow, end it now

let it end

 

 

it will end, have no fear of that

_for you_ it will end

the Dragon is dead already

and at my hand

you are the last

(look upon your castle

proud and silent

at the going down of the sun

look upon your castle

 

and _despair)_

 

is this how it ends?

 

for you, Imp -

 

_yes ._

 

For my sister  and the man she loved

For your brother  and the woman he loved

For the Lion and the Lady

 

 

for them

 

no

 

 

 

it does not end here

 

for from life they pass to death

and from death into song

from song into myth

into another life everlasting

 

 

and thence

 

 

 

 

_and thence into legend_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments?

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? *winces and hides behind the sofa, waiting for the rotten tomatoes to start flying*


End file.
